


you and me, need never be lonely again

by izurulovesboats



Series: first requests from tumblr [3]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Blood Magic, Cuddling, M/M, strife has Emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 06:16:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17719703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izurulovesboats/pseuds/izurulovesboats
Summary: You know I don't look pretty when I cry.





	you and me, need never be lonely again

**Author's Note:**

> yknow. strife crying is my strong suit i think

Parvis’ memory is beyond hazy when he stirs. His head aches and pounds, his whole body feeling heavy and sluggish as he sits up. His weakness almost overtakes him as he moves again, but it doesn’t, weakly moving his scar-riddled arm up to rub at his eyes. It takes him a while to piece together what he did that left him without any memories of the previous night, considering he barely makes it into his bed at all most nights. If anything, he hadn’t needed to.

He racks his mind for some sort of clarification on what he did the night before, but then a rough, stinging sensation burns on his arm. He flinches with a yelp, taking a good look at his arm and grimacing. New, scabbed-over, soon to be scars layered over some old, faded ones. He can’t help but wonder if he bled out and respawned, with his system neatly reset and weakened like he’d just taken a centuries-long nap. Which he found himself confused at, because he’s never been able to sleep this long. Not when Will isn’t around.

He gives himself the reasoning of  _I’ll pick up the pieces when I’m at the Altar again_ , and starts to slowly make his way out of the bed. As he turns to the side to get out of the bed, he’s met with William Strife, looking quite pissed- Probably because he was- down at the bloodmage, his sunglasses shining with the light coming off a few of the lamps in the room. “So? How was your time with the altar?” He hisses, scowling, “Worthy of me having to panic for a good few hours because you weren’t waking up?!”

“I–” He interrupts himself, taking a good look at Strife’s appearance. He didn’t look like he was.. presentable, by Strife’s own standards. His hand had been dyed crimson from the remains of what Parvis assumes is his own blood, and his face was scrunched up in frustration. Parvis is sure Will’s eyes were glowing under his sunglasses, hence why he had them on instead of looking at him dead on.   
  
“No, No.” Will’s aggression rises, the tone of his voice unmistakably turning his last words into growls as he crosses his arms, “Tell me the reason why you went so overboard this time. Needed more power? You weren’t strong enough?”   
  
“..Oops?” Parvis’ face falls, looking away as he pieces it all back together, bit by bit. He must’ve passed out at the altar again. That’s why Strife is so mad. “..Look, Strife, I accidentally overdo it sometimes. It was a mistake, okay? Won’t happen again, Will.”

“Won’t happen again?” Will parrots, scoffing, “Not like you said that last time or anything, right?”   
  
“..Will, I–”   
  
“No!” Strife’s voice seems to falter a bit, but the frustration is still prominent above anything else. “You think that if you keep doing this, you’re gonna get stronger? That you won’t accidentally..” He loses his words after a while, his voice slowly starts breaking. Parvis can hear him curse under his breath, “That it will just be an accident if I just let you run wild with this?! I have a right to be mad! You could die!”

There’s silence in Parvis’ mind, whatever snarky remark he would’ve replied with to the initial question gone. All he cares about is the subtle breaks in his voice and the slight shakiness of Will’s breath, how his chest heaves with a completely different meaning than what it had been a few seconds ago. “..Strife?”

By the time he replies, Strife is biting his lip, looking away and starting to subtly take a few deep breaths, “I can’t.. I-I can’t lose you, Alex. Not to this.” His voice breaks again on the last word, letting some tears trail from behind his sunglasses and down his face, his glamour fading when he lets a quiet sob go, his noew green freckles brightening. “Please.. B-Be careful next time, okay?”

Something in Parvis’ heart shatters at this sight of Strife actually crying. He’s never seen Strife cry. Ever. He’s gotten close a few times, but he always had to be in a separate room or go back to his tower to even show that he had feelings like everyone else did. He wondered if there was a reason for that. Gently, he reaches out for one of Will’s hands, and he nods, “I will, okay?”

Strife was shaking hard, and granted it was able to be thought of, Parvis still wasn’t expecting this amount of vulnerability from him. Not now, in the middle of one of Strife’s angry lectures about safety in blood magic. In Parvis’ personal opinion he didn’t need safety anymore; he could be just as reckless as he could be and nothing would hurt him. He would still come back in the end, stronger than the last. It never stopped Strife from mouthing him off about how careful he should be. But this.. This was different. This wasn’t a normal reprimand. This was a plead for his own life; That he never go too far again.

Strife wordlessly nods at his reply, pushing his sunglasses up. His eyes were glowing, but not even close enough to distract him from the fact that he was still crying, probably even having to hold back a few wrecked sobs. Parvis’ heart melts at this, an overwhelming feeling to hold him and comfort him flooding his brain. He pats beside him on the bed, and Strife nods again, climbing over the bloodmage and sitting on the bed, curling up next to him. They’re going to be there for a while, but maybe that’s just what they need.


End file.
